July 11, 2011

Teenage Years 3

After the fire, my mum was basically homeless so my dad agreed to let my mum stay with us for a while. She was still unwell though. When you have a mum who is mentally ill, it is so hard to except at first but as hard as it is you have to accept it because at the end of the day you still love her. I remember just loving having her under the same roof again but because she wasn't properly being treated by the health service nor would she cooperate things pretty much stayed the same and even got worse. She started drinking a lot and became verbally abusive. At this time i was preparing for my trial HSC which made it hard to focus as i was worrying about mum. I can't quite remember whether this happened during the trials or just after, but one morning my brother and I realised that mum wasn't downstairs (where she was staying). We tried not to think too much of it as she had been going out without letting anyone know, i was still worried though as she had left the sliding door open. I had to go to school and thought she'd be there when i got home but she wasn't and that's when i was really worried. I phoned my aunt as she was always good at handling mum situations. We then contacted the mental health emergency team and then eventually we had to call the police as it was getting late and she still wasn't back. That night was terrible, i don't think i even slept, all these things were going through my mind. The next day, my aunt and i went out looking for her and even taking pictures with us in case anyone had seen her. Late that afternoon we recieved a phone call saying that she had been found by the police walking along the side of the road quite a way from home. After that, she ended up in hospital for 7 months. I'd never seen her so bad. I just wanted my mum back.

A little while after all this happened, i started feeling a bit depressed and anxious. I hated not being able to have some control of mum's behaviour. It was getting closer and closer to the HSC and i was just struggling to cope. By the day i was becoming more and more depressed. The school counsellor and a few of the teachers, i know, were a bit worried about me so they were trying to organise me going to see a counsellor to help me cope with everything that happened. At the time it was a scary concept going to see a counsellor but i thought it might help. This is how I met L. She was a child and adolescent Psychologist at a local youth centre.  All i can remember from our first session was her asking me if i had any desire to harm myself. At that time it was a flat out no! Boy, how things change in a small amount of time!